Frail, dainty, and courageous, the White House mistress had come back from the Valley of the Shadow, and while now and then she had to think for a word, she was just as merry and full of energy as when she had last talked over the events of her first year in the White House. She told of her desperate struggle against death, solemnly stating that it was only the prayers of the people that had saved her life. Mrs. Harding also spoke of the pleasure it had been to have her husband with her, and to a special friend she remarked: “In one way this illness has been a blessing. We have had more time with each other than at any period since the beginning of the campaign. Before I had to go to bed there was not a minute of the day that either of us was free. There was never a meal when we were alone. I can tell you it was a treat to be able to take advantage of my condition and sit upstairs here in the evening and talk to my husband.” Though a good mixer like her husband, whose friends were her friends, Mrs. Harding was not much of a “joiner.” She was a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution, by her descent from Captain Edmund Richards, of Connecticut; but had been identified with that organization for many years in Ohio and became honorary member of the Mary Washington Chapter of the District of Columbia. Wives of the Presidents are so hedged about with restrictions that they make as few new moves as necessary to avoid the criticism that is always ready to descend upon them. Mrs. Harding once remarked that she had joined every Animal Rescue League in the land, for that seemed a perfectly safe thing to join. At the time of Mr. Harding’s election, she became an active member of the League of American Pen Women, holding that membership until her death. When President Harding set out for Alaska, it was to realize a dream he had nurtured from the time he came to the Presidency. Yet there are many who believe that he had a premonition that he would not survive the trip, for he set his house in order, made his will, rearranged his investments, sold certain properties, and left his personal affairs in ship-shape condition. The trip, though interesting and enjoyable, proved a severe strain, although his sixty speeches in thirty-nine days was not an unusual number for Presidents on such long journeys across the continent. But his vitality had been weakened by a sick spell in the early summer. The deaths of the three men, all friends of his and members of his party, whose car plunged over the cliff in Colorado depressed him greatly. Mrs. Harding’s threatened collapse in Alaska, and the accident to the boat that brought them back to Seattle, all added to the weariness. At San Francisco, almost at once came his severe illness, and when the nation watched with anxiety the sickroom bulletins, the relief at the news of his improvement and the assurance of recovery was heartfelt.